Never Forget
by katfischo
Summary: Heartbroken fictional charactor that came from the top of my head falls in love with Aragorn but he loves another...very sad and some violence


The fading sunlight gleamed cold and deadly off the edge of a sharp blade as it was whirled through the air with amazing grace of years spent practising, and a burning passion that was kindled at the heart of an icy fire. She ran her spare hand along the cool blade of the sword, steadying it into a final sweep that sliced the quivering air in two, as she finished her practise for the night. She let out a held breath and dropped the sword to her side- glancing around to check for unfriendly eyes. As a woman, if she were caught with a sword in her hand the penalty would be a slow death; the breath would be slowly taken away from her, as the rope that held her in the air would tighten its grip around her neck as her own weight pulled her down.  
  
Absent-mindedly she fingered at the chain around her neck, link-by-link, small and lacy fine, it was strung around her neck and had no clasp, as though it chained her to herself, it was carrying a pendant that weighed down her heart. As she clutched the chain tightly in her hand it pulled at her neck with a cold chilling reminder of the tight noose that seemed to already suffocate her whenever she looked around, expecting to finally be caught with the forbidden sword in her hand. Although in the end her long search was ultimately for death, she wanted to die, with glory that would wipe away past pain- in the battlefield where she could fight; but she no longer knew what she was fighting for. It used to be passion for all things good but her life had gone so far astray that she no longer knew what good was anymore-she suffered the pain of love that still smouldered in her heart-a love that once used to burn with a radiant brightness, that was now left only smoke that filled her heart and chocked her. Now, after losing her fight to hold her grip on some last remaining hope, all she was doing was just fighting to stay alive-so that in the end she could die. It was soon that she could finish what she had set out to do-war was here; the enemy's army was approaching Gondor.  
  
In her quarters she sat down to rest aching muscles, while concerning herself with polishing the sword to its deadly sheen; she could see herself in the reflection. She looked back at a lady whose short dark brown hair- that she has cut years ago- framed a pale face with dark features made up of fine lines, her eyes looked back at her with a fierce determination, an icy glare, and underneath, a yearning sorrow. She lowered the sword until she could no longer see her own face and continued to polish the metal. After she absent-mindedly rubbed the metal with the cloth a few more times she sighed, ready to fall into a deep sleep but looked wildly over her shoulder as a knock sounded at her door, while she was sheathing the sword and placing it in a locked chest. She considered killing the person at the door before she locked the case, but thought better of it-she did not yet know who it was. "Lady, are you decent.?" came the yell from the other side of the door. Straightening herself out, she reached for the doorhandle and let the soldier in. "I have just come to report, lady..." She glared at him as he named her lady, and he quickly lowered his eyes; her temper was famous along with her cold manner. He stood up straighter and started again with a slight stiffness in his voice, "I have come to report, that the enemy's army have been seen a few miles outside the castle walls. We are preparing for war- and the women and children are to retreat to the mountain pass where they will be safe". Silence, and a wave of her hand, signalling him to leave was all the reply he got as he bowed low and shuffled backwards out the door. She calmly stood up and locked the door. Now was the time to prepare.  
  
She unlocked the heavy chest that lay hidden under her bed, pulled it out and gazed over her collection of battle gear- stolen from the castle's war supplies- she owned a key to every locked door in the palace. She brought out belts, buckles, chain mail, a large shield, lather boots, a helmet and lastly the precious sword. Strapping every last buckle from her head to the laces on her boots-she gazed at herself in the mirror- to see if she was likely to pass off as a man. She was shocked at the result, she seemed totally different-except for her eyes, which she could not bear to look at- for it reminded her of her sorrow. Soon I will never have to look at them again, she thought and she gritted her teeth and opened her door-expecting shouts of discovery- so she hurried off to join the army as a mystery comrade.  
  
* * *  
  
It was the heat of the battle and a violent rage had washed over her. She was slashing orcs heads, as one after the other tried to get past the human wall the Gondor army had made. She was invincible; nothing could get her. She no longer wanted to die-but kill, punish every living thing for every being happy when she was stuck in a pool of despair. While she whirled the sword around her head to block another attack on her, she caught a glimpse of a man, an aura of something just not quite human that seemed to glow around him, shouting orders to the Rohirrian army as they fought, and for that moment all she could she was his radiant face with his eyes that seemed to pierce into her deepest thoughts, all she could her was his commanding voice, all she could think of was him, in every small and perfect detail, and for that moment that seemed to last a lifetime. She thought she caught a snatch of a song sang from far off, carried to her by the wind-but lost in places on the journey there.  
  
Vardo tellumar nu luini yassen tintilar I eleni ómaryo airetári-líriene. Si man I yulma nin enqantuva?  
  
And while she was looking at that man-it seemed all the pains that she had been through gathered into one and she was sure she felt her heart break in two-at that moment came a white-hot sear of pain at the back of her head, and she fell into nothing as a black shadow passed over her, she could feel its icy breath on the back of her neck.  
  
* * *  
  
She was lost in dream. Flashes of things that she couldn't understand came rushing past her head. She was in a garden full of trees with leaves that seemed to glitter and sparkle a golden light in the sun, with trunks that were smooth silver. She was sitting under one of those trees, her hands on the heart of an elf, who was whispering secrets in her ear-then suddenly his eyes turned green and he spat. 'Yrch!' and suddenly they were no longer in the garden-the elf had turned into the man on the battlefield and there were orcs all around her, she was trying to get to him, to tell him something desperately important, but she kept on getting driven back by unfriendly swords and ugly faces full of gnawing teeth. Then suddenly she was alone, practising the sword-but there was somebody watching her and fear seemed to grab her by the neck, but the man just watched calmly as she aimed the sword for her own heart- thinking she might as well die like this, and she thrust it into her flesh-piercing her heart. Black smoke started to billow out of her wound and covered her until all she could see was black smoke-and she was choking. A voice from the fog came to her, 'The hands of a King are the hands of a healer' and she heard a different voice say 'kingsfoil.' and suddenly the smoke around her was clearing and she was looking into these piercing green eyes again, but this time it was not a dream.  
  
She opened her eyes and all she could see was a brilliant white-which suddenly came into focus as a small healing room. She was naked from her waist up-and quickly she covered herself up-for she knew that she had finally been caught, she expected soon to hear the cries of soldiers coming to execute the woman who had broken their ancient rule- but all she could see was the man, looking back on her with a grave interest. He walked up to her a bought his mouth to her ear and whispered, "You have slept long lady. Your body is now strong again-but your spirit wastes away. You will not be caught for you are in a private room- no one is to enter lest you be disturbed." He smiled. "You intrigue me lady-for what you were doing in the battle field no-one will know, you were caught in the back of the head by a blunt axe poorly aimed-else you would be dead." She looked up at him with an angry defiance. "There are many things left unanswered from what I have heard while you dreamt fitfully." She blushed-she knew that she must of talked in her sleep, but that did not matter now. "You have healed me," she said "But that will do no good. My will to live is no longer with me-so you work is in vain. I will die before the morning rises by morrow." He looked at her and suddenly there was a great sadness in his green eyes. He bent closer to her face, and a great thrill rushed down her spine she closed her eyes once more, willing at once for nothing and everything to happen as she could smell his closeness, and suddenly his lips were on hers with a tender touch of compassion, understanding, and a great urging need. She returned the kiss passionately and she felt the long years off sorrow drown out of her wherever he touched her. She reached to stroke his face and he gently pulled away, and looked into her as if filling his hunger with a vision of her. "Lady, I do not wish you to die," and a look of almost hurt crossed his face, "do you not want to spend time with me?" He looked intently into her eyes and at that moment she felt as if she would do anything for that man standing in front of her-she would be willing to give him her body, mind and soul. But he continued, "I am not supposed to be here, I have others to heal-it is my duty to them," and seeing to look of great sorrow on her face he continued, "if you are feeling fit enough, and you still wish to keep your life for another day- meet me in the royal garden at the rise of the moon-we need to talk, for I do not know you"  
  
As the circle of the moon rose over the tops of the trees, she watched the man-her silent saviour that healed her heart, approach her and lie down next to her. He started stroking her hair. He kissed her and then looked into her eyes. "Tell me, what is your name?" he asked. "That is not important," she replied. "Then I shall call you Ithíldin; it means moonstar, beautiful, but cold and distant." He kissed her again. "My moonstar-tell me your long story for I sense you have been through much." And he held her tight and patiently waited for her to begin. She took a deep breath and fear of the pain that she though had quashed down inside her rose and bubbled in her throat. But she took another breath and looked at his trusting eyes. She leant forward to kiss him on his brow, eyes, nose, cheek, lips.and then she began.  
  
"I was born in Gondor, my father was a brother-son to the king, my mother died before I could remember looking upon her face. I loved my father-he was good to be and for the young years of my life I was pampered, but I grew bored of life inside the city's walls. And then my father died at war and there was nothing keeping me back. So I travelled around Middle Earth-I was searching for something-a kind of piece missing in myself, but I didn't know what it was. And then finally I found myself in Lothlórien. I met an elf there, I had never seen an elf before-he was the fairest being I had ever met, his voice was sweet and his face was pure. I fell in love, so deeply and so far, that he said he could feel my longing pulling inside of me. We kissed and we spent many nights sitting under the mallorn- he whispered secrets in my ear-things that I could only hear- while he held me close. He loved me, so he grieved. He told me I was the last thing he loved on Middle-Earth; that the sea called to him; it was always a grey shadow in his mind- misting his view. I reminded him of the sea-he said he could see the sea in my eyes, and its wind on my breath and that my hair was like a ship's sail on the glimmering ocean; and whenever he looked at me his heart broke just a little more as it slipped into the sea.  
  
The last night we saw each other I was lying in his arms once more, he held me tightly as he kissed me with more passion that he ever had before. He ran his fingers through my hair- I can still remember every small moment of that night- and then he cried. He cried till the setting of the moon, I cried with him, and then he just looked at me and handed me a small pendant- it was a glass phial filled with the light of his star-Elendiath, mixed with his tears. He told me it would ever bring her light and sorrow-sorrow so that she could better enjoy and understand the light. He said he wanted me to understand and he never wanted me to forget him. He sang to me, he sang- Vardo tellumar nu luini yassen tintilar I eleni ómaryo airetári- líriene. Si man I yulma nin enqantuva? He kissed me again, and then told me the next day he was leaving with his people to the Grey Heavens. He said that even thought I could not see him- he would be forever with me, and I with him-and when he closes his eyes I would be there in his heart.  
  
I begged to him to let me come with him to the Undying Lands but he said I could not, there was no way and if there was he would stay with me forever. It hurt-oh how it hurt, my heart was weighed down after it had been light with so much joy. He said I was mortal and someday I would die, leaving him to suffer on the sorrow that lay as a hole in his heart, so I threatened to kill myself- being mortal as I would die, but he begged me not to saying that if I did- he would loose the love for everything thing that he once did. He told me that he would always be right were I was-and if I died he would die too-for he would die for me, forsaking immortal life. He told me even then the memory of our love would keep me through, that I must have hope that one day we would meet again, because if I could not find hope I would loose. I stood at the docks to watch him leave, so that maybe I might learn the way so that I could someday follow him. But a mist surrounded him- he yelled to me. 'I love you my ocean, and I always will until all that is beautiful in the world die, the rivers stop and the mountains fall into the sea. I will always be waiting for you to return to me'  
  
That was the last I ever saw of him, I could bear no longer to go to Lothlórien, to look upon the fairest of folk again-lest I be reminded of his beautiful face. I went back to my own city. When I returned home-I cut my hair and vowed never to look at my face again, never to speak-lest I remind myself of the greatest pain I have ever suffered-the elf who loved me, who still loves me, who loved the sea and saw it in my hair and eyes and voice, who left me when I loved him with all my heart and body and soul. From that day I vowed to fight for all things good- so that the memory of our love would be all around me, but I could no longer see them- because the greatest thing in my life had left. What was good for me now? I learnt the sword in secret so that one day I would have the strength to fight for what I believe in, become like a man so that I may never love a man again, as it would save me from the pain. But the pain was still within me- so I set out to die, to rid myself of my heavy sorrow. But I could not kill myself because I promised him, so I went to find someone else to do it for me. I stole the army's supplies; my father's position gave me access to all the rooms in the keep, and when I heard there was war I snuck into the Gondor army. I would have died and been happy if you had just let me on the battlefields, but you found me, as I have found you.'  
  
And with that she stopped, and looked deeply into his eyes, but they were filled with pain and a guilt "Lady, I am with another, I shouldn't be here." "What do you mean?" "Her name is Arwen.I love her with all my heart soul and mind" And then the anger rose, stronger than it ever had before, because this time she had been betrayed willingly, he knew it had to end and he made her believe that it could go on for eternality, he made her believe that the pain would never return.  
  
She was about to strike him when a horn blew and they both looked up. Hundreds of orcs were trooping up the hills, sent on the passion of destruction, that all races, orc, dwarf human and elf all knew and at some time of their lives, loved. Without a second glance an orc that was leading the pack drew an arrow and as it went whistling through the air, she felt a sudden kind of piece, that it all would be over, she could look upon her mothers face for the first time, and see the stars that linked her world with the one of her lost love that lie over the ocean. As the arrow went through her throat and she took a last look at the eyes of the one that had forbiddingly loved her, and she felt compassion, for now he would know the pain that she had carried for most of her life. And as the lights went out of her eyes, the likeness of the ocean seemed to fade, then die and the man screamed as he started to attack the foul beasts, for he would always remember. 


End file.
